I dated a Persian guy a few times. Coffee, dinner a few times. He brought flowers several times. He offered to trim the bushes on the side of my house one Saturday while I was working. If I had hired a blind drunk yard person that used dull scissors, it would have turned out better. I had to hire someone else to fix it. (Don't get me wrong - it was a sweet gesture - but how someone could do such a crappy job?) Particularly when you read on...

We're both Falcons fans, so we watched the game at his house about a month ago.

HUGE house. Gorgeous. Nicely decorated. But something was odd... The place looked like a model home. Nothing personal - no pictures, no clutter... His pantry had a box of pasta and a bottle of sauce. Fridge had some bottled water & condiments.

I asked him how long he had lived here.

Four years.

The plan was to cook dinner & watch the game. He didn't even know how to turn on his oven.

Four years.

While watching game, he got excited with at TD and spilled his red wine on his shirt. We went up to his laundry room (thru his bedroom closet). The closet was huge but there was maybe 6 pairs of pants, equal number of shirts, and three pairs of shoes.

I dunno. It was just too odd for me. I can't put my finger on it, but my inner voice was saying "Danger Will Robinson! Danger!"